


Walls

by Adoradork



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-02-09 08:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1975512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adoradork/pseuds/Adoradork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the moment Donatello saw April, his heart was lost. They've known each other for months now, but still he can't tell how she feels. Are they destined to be together, or will all his longing only end in a broken heart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Walls

**Author's Note:**

> When April needs help with schoolwork, Donatello will always be there. Numbers are easy. It's life that's hard.

It started with a text message, as always. _Calculus test tomorrow. PLEASE HELP._

"Going over to April's," he said to his brothers.

"Have fun," said Leo, not taking his eyes off the TV.

Donnie left the tunnels behind for the light and noise of the city. New York at night was a nasal cacophony, car exhausts and cooking and garbage and people. If the sewers were a refuge, they were also a prison. Here on the rooftops, for a while, he could be free.

He lost himself in the journey, run and leap and land and run again. The thrust of muscles and the impact of feet on concrete and tile, the shock of it through his body, the tender pull of scars old and new. He paused on the edge of the rooftop. Across the alleyway the light was on in her room. He leaped across, landed on the fire escape.

April threw open the window. "Donnie! You're a life saver."

"That's me. Always here to save the day." He tucked his bo out of sight in the corner, sat on the windowsill, swung his legs over and into her room.

It was nice to be welcome.

* * *

Donnie's arm was on the bed behind her. She could feel the warmth of it through her shirt. He was leaning over her shoulder, intent on the book, one finger tapping the page to emphasise his point. She turned her head slightly, to find his cheek inches from hers. Under the curve of his jaw, the muscles in his neck stood out beneath the mottled green skin.

And he had no idea how close they were. A slow warmth spread in her belly. He was always at his best when explaining something, when the intellectual side of him was firmly in control. There was none of the awkward, unsure Donnie then. If only-

_I wonder what would happen if I kissed him._

"Does that make sense?" he said.

"What? Uh, oh, yes. Right." Damn, she didn't have a clue what he had just said. "Um, at least-"

They both froze at the sound of footsteps in the hallway.

"Oh my god, Dad will have a fit if he finds you in my room at this time of night!" she whispered.

The door handle moved. There was a soft sound and Donnie was gone from her side. The ruffle around the bottom of her bed rippled. She sent a silent thank you to ninja stealth.

The door opened and her father poked his head through. "April? I thought I heard you talking to someone."

"Nope. Just, um, the radio."

He looked down at the book in her hand. "Isn't it a bit late to be studying?"

"Big test tomorrow." She hoped her grin didn't look as fake as it felt.

Her Dad walked over to the window and peered through. "It's a bit late for visitors, April."

"Of course." She tried to look as if there wasn't a ninja turtle currently hiding under her bed. She knew he appreciated the turtles, but there were limits. Her bedroom near midnight would definitely count as a line not to be crossed.

" _Any_ visitors." He turned and frowned down at her.

"Yeah, Dad, I know." No need for him to say who he meant. Who else came and went via her window at night?

He glanced outside once more. "Well, I think it's time for bed now."

"Sure. Night Dad."

"Goodnight, April."

The door closed behind him. April waited until she heard his footsteps moving away, then breathed a sigh of relief. "You can come out now," she whispered.

A purple plastic pony head peeped out from under the ruffle around the bottom of her bed. She squeaked, then slapped her hands over her mouth. The pony's body followed, dwarfed by the enormous green hand wrapped around its middle, bouncing it along the carpet like a demented rabbit.

"What are you _doing?_ " she hissed. "Put that down!" She yanked the horse out of his grasp, blushing furiously.

Donnie's head emerged from under the bed. Dust patterned his skin. "It's like a toy graveyard under here. Why are there so many horses?"

"I liked horses!"

"There are plastic cowboy boots."

"They're cowGIRL boots, thank you." She grabbed his arm and hauled. "Now get out from under there!"

He emerged, grinning, and her blush threatened to set her face on fire. "New rule. Stay away from my bed!"

She caught the look on his face, and just like that, the easy camaraderie was gone. They were back to the awkward fumbling. She was weary of it. But how to climb this unscalable wall of unsaid feelings? How to reach a place where they were both comfortable?

His feelings were clear. It was her own feelings that she struggled with.

She sighed and let go of his hand. He stood and they faced each other, his hands wrapped around the leather harness over his shoulder, his eyes on the floor.

"Well, I'd better-" she caught herself before saying _go to bed_. "-call it a night."

"Sure. Good luck with the test tomorrow. Just remember the rules of derivatives. It's easy."

"For you."

"You can do it." He threw open the window and swung himself through. "Good night, April."

"Donnie." She leaned out, wrapped her arms around his neck. "Thank you."

She was rewarded with the tentative, gentle touch of his hands on her back, the catch of his breath.

"You're welcome, April."

He picked up his staff and was gone in one smooth leap.

* * *

He watched her silhouette move about the room, playing the evening over in his head, trying to assign meaning to every gesture, every word. But it was too hard, too open to interpretation and he failed, as always, to draw reliable conclusions from her actions.

But there had been one moment, leaning over the book, listening to her stumble through an equation, when he'd glanced aside and realised how close they were. Her lashes, the length of them, fascinated him and he'd lost the thread of her voice. The freckles on her cheek were a puzzle he couldn't solve. He longed to reach across and brush the hair back from her eyes with his fingers. To touch the warmth of her skin.

But instead, here he was on the rooftop, waiting for her light to go out. Again. An urge rose, to go back, to knock on the window, to ask the question that bothered him late at night. _Is it who I am, or what I am? Tell me._

The light in her room went out. He turned and ran, across the rooftops, under the hazy sky, back to the sewers, their refuge, his lonely prison.


	2. Numbers

April's bag drags at her shoulder, full of homework that somehow must be done in the six hours left before bed tonight. As well as dinner, say half an hour. And looking for Kraang activity, make that two hours, if they get lucky. Which left three and a half hours for trigonometry, biology, history and that awful current events essay. And Casey had texted her about another study session, but there is no way she can fit that in.

These days she always seems to be counting, shuffling numbers around to make her life work.

She pushes through the turnstiles and into the lair, is welcomed by variations on "Hey, April!" Their greetings are always cheerful, open, and for a moment she forgets about her impossible schedule. She feels safe, here in their home, more than anywhere else. Has lived with them for a time, though those days are shadowed by the loss of her father, her fear of abduction.

They are watching cartoons as usual, sprawled across the benches in the pit. Donnie gives her a wave, the little self-effacing gesture so very him. She smiles back and they head for the relative quiet of his lab. She abandons her schoolbag with relief.

Today they are working through the mass of information coming in to her message board, sorting through the conspiracy rubbish to find the good stuff. They are behind, her because of schoolwork, him because of too many nights spent patrolling.

Working together on a problem is when they are at their best. Two minds on the same track, riding the same rails, aiming for the same destination.

* * *

Her hand, resting on the benchtop, is two inches from his. Three, no, four strands of hair have escaped her ponytail to rest against her cheek. In the still air of his lab they move gently as if alive. It takes him a moment to realise it is his own breath that moves them, and he is lost in their motion.

And then he panics that she will feel that breath on her cheek and realise he is looking at her and so he yanks his gaze back to the screen, his heart going just a tiny bit faster.

He can't help it if his mind can tell him exactly how far away she is, in both X and Y dimensions. He can't help it if he knows the approximate range of her core body temperature, exactly how many freckles dance across her nose. That he knows her apartment is nine blocks away, her window ten metres from street level. That her lights go off anywhere between ten and midnight.

That she has twenty-four plastic horses under her bed, nine Barbie dolls and three pairs of cowgirl boots. The Barbie dolls surprised him a lot more than the horses.

He doesn't go out at night and watch her window anymore. Well, not every night. It wasn't his brothers' teasing that put a stop to it. It was the look on Leo's face, the slight eye twitch that told him _this behaviour isn't normal_.

The world might consider him a freak, but he can't bear his brothers thinking the same.

"There," says April, jabbing a finger at the screen, jerking him out of his thoughts. They play the video again, watch the violent flash of light so peculiar to Kraang portals. He downloads the video, files it under _confirmed Kraang activity_ and they move on to the next message.

What was normal, anyway? He was a half-turtle, half-human hybrid accidentally created by an alien mutagen, raised in the sewers by a human/rat hybrid who was also a Grandmaster of Ninjutsu. That was his normality, and he was comfortable in it. Right up until the point he ran into the rest of the world's version of normal, and realised how unbelievably odd they were.

"What about this one?" April asks. The picture is blurry, a couple posing in low light in front of an indistinguishable building. The original poster has circled a misshapen blob in the background. "Could be a Kraang droid."

He squints at it. "Could be a wax model of Godzilla, too."

She swats him on the arm. "It's blue."

"It's kind of grey."

"It's blue-grey."

"That's not even a colour. It's either blue, or grey."

She rolls her eyes. "Fine. But it _could_ be a Kraang droid."

He doesn't argue any more, just files it in a new folder. When he labels it _humoring April_ she swats him again, with an outraged growl. He puts up his hands in mock surrender, grinning. He could duck away, but if he's honest with himself, her touch is welcome in any form. She pokes her tongue at him.

Now she's back to the message board, but he's still floundering through their last encounter, completely focused on her movements, her scent, her skin. He's always had an obsessive personality. His ability to focus on one thing to the exclusion of all else is incredibly useful when it comes to his projects.

Not so much when it comes to love.

"Dude, it's _creepy_." Mikey can screw up his face into an expression of _weird_ like no one else he knows. Being called creepy by Michelangelo cools his obsession more than anything else. Or cools the outward expression of it, anyway. What happens inside is harder to control.

He can't help but count the number of times they touch, accidentally, as they work.

She draws in a sharp breath, the hiss of it like an angry cat. He drags his attention back to the message board. There's a picture of Kraang droids in their corporate goon disguises, unloading a van with boxes that are, quite clearly, _glowing_. The poster has included an address, and a date. Last night.

"We have a winner," she says. Her hands on the bench are clenched into fists.

He files the picture away, uploads the location to his T-phone while she runs out to tell his brothers.

He tallies the numbers up in his head. _Nineteen times tonight. A new record._

* * *

She can't count how many times their work in the lab has led to another Kraang plot, another night where the boys go into battle for her, for their world. She _can_ count the number of times they have allowed her to join them in battle. More and more now, after that first time.

Tonight they argue but she is determined. _I'll hang back. I swear._ The need to be there, to see, to _know_ , beats down their defenses and they allow her to tag along.

But the numbers don't match. It's not five of them going into battle. It's _four_ and _one_.

It's not that they don't want her there. It's just that she still doesn't fit. They still work around her, still track her position to make sure she's okay. She can't keep up. It will be years before she can. Maybe never. They have a fifteen year head start. But she's going, and that's all that matters. Four and one.

She glances at Donnie, head down over his keyboard, lost in concentration. She thinks one of them, at least, would like it to be _three_ and _two_.

She could stay in the lair and do her homework. She _should_ stay in the lair and do her homework. But on days like this, when she has the Kraang clearly in her sights, homework seems so completely unimportant in the face of fighting to save the world.

She glances at the clock, adds up the hours, falls short. She'll be up past midnight yet again.


	3. Reach

Donnie paused on the rooftop edge across from April's window, balanced on his toes, ready for the final jump.

"Wait." Leo grabbed his arm.

"What?" He wanted to see her, needed to know she was healing well. Wanted to hear her voice, bathe in her smile.

Leo frowned. "Don't go soft on her. It won't do her any favours."

"I know that. I know she needs training. I'll do my part." He shook Leo's hand off, impatient to go.

"Good. Try to channel the Foot and forget about counting her freckles for a change," he said.

"Ha ha." Always with the teasing. Anyway, he didn't need to count them anymore. He knew that map better than he knew his own face.

Leo leaped and landed first, but Donnie was the one who tapped on her window. April abandoned her schoolbooks and threw the window open for them. Yellowing bruises shadowed her eye, her jaw, marked her throat and much more. He'd watched the bloom and fade of those bruises over the last two weeks. The bruises might fade, but the memory of the beating wouldn't. He knew that from experience.

"Hey guys." Her smile was for both of them, but Donnie liked to imagine her gaze lingered on him just a moment more than Leo. "What's up?"

"Training," said Leo.

Her eyebrows went up. "Now? Master Splinter said-"

"Special training." Leo held out his hand. She glanced at her door, then took his hand and hopped out onto the fire escape with them.

Leo let go of her hand. "There's a certain...weakness we need to address."

And now she looked nervous, and a little defiant. "What weakness?"

"I'll explain on the roof." Leo climbed nimbly up the fire escape.

She turned to Donnie, a question in her eyes, waiting for his reassurance, and it warmed him right through. He smiled at her. "Trust us." Ignored the stab of guilt, the instinctive cry of _protect her_ in his heart. They needed to do this, so there would be no more repeats of the beating she took at the hands of the Foot. He followed her up the fire escape. She would be wearing more bruises after tonight.

* * *

April knew she was gasping like a fish but she couldn't stop. Sweat stung her eyes, plastering her bangs to her forehead. She swiped at them with a hand that shook.

"You're still not getting it." Leo paced around them, his arms folded. "You can't do any damage out there." He walked up beside Donnie and thumped his plastron. "This is what you need to hit."

"I'm trying," she said through gritted teeth.

"Try harder."

Oh, she hated Leo. Hated all turtles right now. Stupid ninjas with their speed and dexterity and years of training. What did he want from her? She gathered her resources and ran at Donnie once again.

He sidestepped, swinging his bo down and smacking her on the arm. She stumbled away before he could hit her again, rubbing her arm. She knew he was pulling his strikes. He must be. If he hit her full force he would probably break her arm. But it still hurt.

And what hurt more was the look on his face. Blank, impassive. No encouraging smiles. No warm brown eyes. His chin was tucked down, his eyes hooded, his stance intimidating. She liked it when they did that to their enemies. It made her feel safe, confident. It was entirely different being on the receiving end of that stare.

She had to admit that a small part of her had never, ever thought that Donnie would be able to hit her. Raphael, sure. Leo, even Mikey, though he would probably apologise for every hit. But not Donnie.

She rushed him again, and again. He wasn't going soft on her, and the blows _hurt_. He whacked her side, her arms, her back, her legs. He wasn't sweet Donnie tonight. He was a torment, and a bully, and she hated him more than Leo.

She tried to duck under his bo and got a crack across her shoulders for her trouble. She stood back to get her breath, watched Leo pacing, impassive. She wouldn't cry. It didn't matter how much it hurt. She didn't cry when they carried her home, covered in bruises. She didn't cry when they were stitching up her leg. She wouldn't cry tonight.

"Try again," said Leo.

She wiped an angry hand across her eyes. "Why? It's hopeless!" She gestured at Donnie, his long arms, the six-foot staff which gave him a phenomenal reach. "How am I supposed to get past that?"

"April. When your enemy has a greater reach than you, you are at a disadvantage." God, he sounded just like Splinter when he lectured. No wonder it drove his brothers crazy. "You need to get inside his reach. Strike at the heart, where you have the advantage."

"Give me a weapon, then." He wouldn't even let her use her tessen. "How am I supposed to block him?"

Leo shook his head. "A weapon won't make a difference. You're not trying to block his strikes. You're trying to get past them."

"This isn't fair," she snapped, circling around for another try.

"It's not meant to be fair."

She knew that, and wished she hadn't said it. It was a sulky, juvenile thing to say but this was hopeless, and she hurt.

"Try again."

She hated his calm, insufferable voice. "How long do I have to do this?"

"Until you get through."

"What if I can't?"

"Then it's going to be a long night."

Rage burst like a dam in her chest. How dare he? How dare he come up here and make her hurt, make her work for this impossible goal? She charged at Donnie. It ended now. No more ninja games, no more torment. The bo came down and pain shot up her arm. But this time she didn't back off. She charged on through, ignoring the second strike that came down on her back, and the third that punched her shoulder.

She stumbled forward and smacked against Donnie's plastron. His arms went around her. Shock immobilised her for a moment, then she smacked her palms on his chest. "I did it!" She gripped his upper arms and laughed. "I did it!"

A huge grin split his face. "Nice work." Her Donnie was back, the brown eyes gazing down at her with approval, and something else. His skin beneath her palms was slick with sweat, but he felt cool, like water, like a night breeze. She was suddenly aware of how very male he smelled, sweat and leather and something else that was indefinably him.

Her breath caught in her throat. He'd held her before, but this time she wasn't being rescued, or crying over her father, and there was nothing to distract her from the tingle in her fingers where they rested on his skin, from the pressure of his hands on her back, from the heartbeat beneath his plastron that was just inches from hers. Her fingers jerked involuntarily, and he shifted his grip. He might not be built like his brothers, but the muscles beneath her fingers slid like cables under his skin, slick and hard as diamond.

"Well done, April," Leo said.

She gasped and jerked away from Donnie, so lost in the moment that she had forgotten Leo existed. Heat burned her cheeks. Donnie would have heard that, and now he would think that the embrace affected her. Which it did. But she wasn't ready to face those feelings. Not yet.

"Thanks," she said to Leo, trying to play it cool, trying to stop the trembling inside.

"That's enough for tonight. We'll have another session tomorrow."

She avoided Donnie's gaze as they climbed down the fire escape, as she mumbled thanks and good night and fled to the safety of her room.

She sat at her desk for a long time, staring at her homework but not seeing it at all, still feeling the texture of his skin under her fingers, her newly made bruises forgotten.

* * *

Donnie ran across the rooftops after Leo, trying to focus on where he was going. But his mind kept replaying the impact of her body against him, his body's sudden, overwhelming reaction to her touch. He imagined that was how drowning felt, flailing and breathless and out of control.

He could still feel the grip of her hands on his arms, each fingerprint like a supernova on his skin. But then she had gasped and backed away from him. He'd felt the shock run through her body, felt her hands jerk away.

_Am I that repulsive?_ Giant hands, green reptile skin, a hard plastron on his chest instead of warm muscles. In a world full of pictures, of magazines and television and internet, his only reflection was in the mirror.

They'd touched before, but not like this. Not sweaty and panting and so close, and he couldn't help but remember the way she wouldn't meet his eyes. It cut into him with the precision of the butcher's knife, slicing apart his self-image, never very strong in the first place.

They dropped down to the manhole cover. Leo pushed it aside. "Good job tonight."

"Thanks." He forced the word out.

Leo put his head on one side and regarded him. "What's wrong? Are you upset that you hurt her? She's okay. Better us than someone else."

"Yeah." His mouth was dry. "I know." It was a lesson that had to be learned, but he wondered if there was another lesson here, about the value of keeping certain people at arm's reach, where they couldn't get past your guard and strike at your heart.


	4. Touch

April throws her books into her locker and slams the door. She dodges Casey, who's been pulling secret squirrel faces at her all day, dropping hints about going to see the guys tonight. She flat-out lies to Irma, saying she can't meet up after school because her Dad wants her to help out at home. She knows she's being a bad friend, and silently promises to make it up to Irma. One day. When the Kraang aren't trying to capture her and the Foot aren't trying to kill her friends and when this feeling like she's going to throw up goes away.

Apparently love kind of feels like a bad taco. She's not impressed.

Then she texts her father and tells him she's meeting Irma after school for study, and begs the universe to not expose her lies, just for one more day. Because she has something important to do. She heads for the nearest sewer entrance, drops down into the noisome dark.

She remembers the feel of his skin under her fingers. Wants to know that feeling again. Wants to _smell_ him, of all things, and the thought makes her blush into the darkness. It feels kinky and weird. She deliberately steers her thoughts away from the concept of kissing. That's too much. She'll be content today to, to just reach out and touch him.

Her stomach flips over. A thousand butterflies perform a mad, stomping rain dance in her belly. Oh gosh. It can't be that hard. He likes her. That's been obvious since day one, in his nervous laugh, his stumbling speech, his focussed attention. She wonders if he always feels on the verge of throwing up when she's around, and hopes he does, because the way she feels right now sucks and it's totally his fault.

An image rises in her mind, of his arms around her, of him leaning down to kiss her and she stops and presses her hands to her face and squeaks. _Just friends_ no longer seems applicable, but _boyfriend_ is a concept way, _way_ beyond what she's ready for.

* * *

Donnie hears the rattle of the turnstiles and knows it's April, even before he hears Mikey's cheerful greeting. His brothers will be making their way over to her but he forces himself to sit at his workbench, forces his mind back to the circuitboard in front of him, the soldering iron in his hand. But his mind rebels, wanting to go out there and say hi and listen to her and gaze at her and say something cool, not that he ever does, he's such a loser when it comes down to it and hates the way his body and brain betray him when she's near and-

"Hey, Donnie!"

Her voice jerks him out of his bleak thoughts. His hand jumps spasmodically, and a flash of pain sears down his fingers as the soldering iron connects with flesh.

"Ow!" He drops the iron and shoves his hand in the sink, turning the tap on, letting the cold water take the heat out of the burn.

April is beside him, dropping her schoolbag on the floor. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Nothing." He tries to smile at her but he's all unbalanced, his heart racing, and it comes out more of a grimace.

"Well it doesn't look like nothing." She reaches for his hand.

He yanks it out of her reach, harder than he meant to. "It's just a little burn. From the soldering iron. I was working on a board and I burned myself. When you startled me. I mean, when you came in. Not that it was your fault."

She blinks at him, with an expression of bemusement at his flood of words that he is achingly familiar with.

_Oh shut up, you tool_. He turns away, pretends to examine the burn, which is tiny and already fading and doesn't warrant the scrutiny he's giving it. This, having her here, is even worse than the last few days, the aching stain inside, the growing realisation that his brothers are probably right, that she doesn't think of him like that, that she never will, that they will always only be _just friends_. He thought he was getting a hold of it but now she's here and his traitorous body is trampling down the protective walls he has been building and they're gone and _he's_ gone and he resigns himself to following her around and mooning over her for the rest of his life like the tragic loser that he is.

"Donnie?"

He blinks, realises he has been staring at his finger for a while. "Um, sorry. Um." He clamps his mouth shut, turns away to dry his hand on a towel. _Pull it together. You've got her friendship. Don't screw that up, too._ He paints a smile on his face and turns around. "So, more messageboard today?"

"Oh no. I can't stay long. I just came over to hang out."

He braces himself against the sting of disappointment. Hang out means watch cartoons in the pit, or play video games, or just talk, but either way it's a group activity and today, today he doesn't think he can bear to sit on the other side of the room and watch and listen and dream. "Oh, well, okay. I want to finish this, so, um." He turns back to the board, settles into his chair.

He expects her to leave but she's still there beside him. She leans in, rests her elbows on the bench next to him. "What are you working on?"

He flicks her a sideways glance. She's got her head tilted, looking up at him. Focussed on him. A few days ago he would have been dancing inside. Now he just wants solitude, and space. He feels as fragile as an empty eggshell. "It's a new control board for the Shellraiser's weapons system. I want to integrate the visual systems so-"

She's listening politely. She always does, when he rambles on. Once he thought it was because she liked him. "So, yeah."

"Can I help?"

"Uhm." He's on the verge of saying no thanks, desperate to get her away so he can stop _feeling_ , stop hurting. But his mind is not so easily retrained. "Sure."

"What can I do?"

"Well, ah, I need a couple of axial inductors. There's a box of them in the cupboard." He jerks his head toward the short metal cupboard where he keeps his scavenged electronics. She's gone then and he breathes properly, hadn't realised his chest was so tight.

April scrabbles around behind him. "Where in the cupboard?"

"In a box on the bottom shelf." He puts down the soldering iron and turns the board. If he attaches the axial inductors _here,_ then...

"Rroawr!" shouts April by his ear as something jabs him in the arm. He shrieks and jumps a mile.

She standing next to him, laughing, holding a plastic dinosaur in one hand, a box tucked under her arm. "You have toy dinosaurs, Mr Hypocrite?"

He gathers the shreds of his dignity, difficult to do in the face of her laughter. "They're _figurines_ and they're scientifically accurate." He takes the _Acrocanthosaurus_ from her, turns it over to show her the scientific name and other details marked on its belly. "This is a crocodylomorph from northern Texas, Early Cretaceous period."

She dumps the box on the table. "I didn't know you were a dinosaur buff."

"I was for a while, when we were kids. Until I discovered electronics."

She's pulling dinosaurs out of the box now, spreading them out on the bench. "And of course you never played with them." She glances up at him with a grin.

"I admit nothing," he says. He picks up the long slender body of a herbivore, surprised how much he remembers of them. And yes, maybe playing with them. A little.

"What's that?"

" _Maiasaura_. It's what _Acrocanthosaurus_ used to eat," he says.

She giggles and attacks with _Acrocanthosaurus._ "Come to me, prey!" she says, cackling madly as she lunges the figure at his dinosaur.

"No!" He fends her off, blocking her with his shoulder as he keeps his dinosaur out of her reach. "Get away from me, you, you _carnivore_!" he says.

April snorts with laughter and jabs him in the side with her dinosaur. He yelps, and her training is really paying off because she lunges for _Maiasaura_ and his only option is to put her in a headlock to prevent his dinosaur being eaten and now they're wrestling and giggling like idiots.

And suddenly it doesn't matter that they'll only ever be friends. He lives for these moments, these sweet, happy moments and he knows he'll do anything to keep them. She gives up, laughing, and he lets go, leaning on the bench, wishing with all of the bittersweet regret in his soul that things were different, but it's not an ache now, just a twinge, and he can live with that. He so desperately wants to put his arm around her and pull her close, lean his head on hers in a silent _thank you_. Maybe he will, one day. In a friendly kind of way.

She's back to pulling dinosaurs out of the box, still chuckling. She holds up a _Protoceratops_ which has been liberally covered in paint. "Why is this one orange?"

"Because Mikey," he says with a sigh. He takes the vandalised dinosaur from her. "I was so mad. I tried to take Mikey up to the surface and leave him there to be eaten by humans but Leo caught me and I had to bring him back." He chuckles at the memory.

"He's cute. I like him."

"He's annoying."

"I meant the dinosaur." She grins at him. "We should give him a name."

"Orange? Fruity? Violated?"

"I see the skill at naming doesn't run in the family." She holds him up, contemplates him for a while. "I think...Maurice."

"Maurice?"

"It suits him. Doesn't he look like a Maurice to you?"

"He looks like a _Protoceratops_."

She laughs at him, but it's nice laughter at his impossibly literal brain. He shrugs.

"What's so funny?" says Raphael from behind them.

April turns. "We're naming Donnie's dinosaur. He's called Maurice the _Protoceratops._ " She holds him up. "Do you like it?"

Raphael stares at the figurine, eye ridges raised. "Nerds," he says, shaking his head, and wanders out again.

They burst out laughing. Nerds they might be, but it's a title he doesn't mind sharing with her. Doesn't mind it at all.

April starts to pack the dinosaurs away with a sigh. "I'd better go."

"Thanks for coming over." He's glad, now. He can stop chewing himself up inside. They are still friends, and he will learn to live with that.

"That was fun," she says, grinning. She goes quiet, and still, her smile fading. He can feel it, with his ninja senses and that other sense that knows her movements and expressions so well. He's about to ask her what's wrong when she lifts her hand and rests it on his arm, on the swell of his bicep, a feather-light touch.

His mind shuts down, every neuron in his body focussed on her hand on his arm. His heart does a hammer-dance in his chest. He tries to calm himself, tries to rationalise it, feels the heat rising on his cheeks. Looks up and meets her gaze.

There's something there, in her eyes. She squeezes his arm, gently, just enough that he knows that the touch is deliberate, that it is _considered_ , that it…that it means something.

Her gaze flicks away, and there's colour rising on her cheeks, too, a bright red flush rushing up her face in a tide to drown her freckles. Then her touch is gone. She's bending down to grab her bag, throwing it over her shoulder.

"Night, Donnie." She turns away. The top of her bag is open just a crack. Through the whirling confusion in his mind he manages to move his hand, grasp, drop.

"Goodnight, April," he says.

At the door she turns to look at him and smiles, the blush still coating her cheeks.

He thinks he might be dying.

* * *

She's grinning as she walks, a big grin that threatens to break her face but she can't stop. She's proud and excited and nervous and completely, irrationally happy. The nausea is gone, replaced by a stinging hot feeling every time she remembers her hand resting on his arm, the way he'd looked up, the _startled_ look in his eyes.

His adorable blush. Oh god. She presses her hands to her cheeks and they are still hot and she's _still_ grinning. She does a happy dance in the darkness, one that Mikey would be so proud of.

By the time she makes it home, closes the door on her father's polite enquiries she's managed to regain control of her face. Homework. She has homework to do. Somehow. She sighs and upends her bag on her desk. Books cascade out, and something bright orange that bounces off the desk and lands on the carpet.

She picks up Maurice and she's smiling all over again. She didn't even see him tuck it in there. Sneaky ninja. She places him carefully on her shelf.

An impulse rises. She glances at the window, but there'll be no-one there tonight. She hesitates for a second, then grabs Maurice and drops a hasty kiss on the tip of his snout, before placing him back on the shelf with a shaking hand. With a squeak she launches herself onto the bed and buries her face in her pillow, hugging it to her chest and giggling uncontrollably. Oh, she is gone, she is so gone. She's in love with her best friend. Her best male friend. _Sorry, Irma._

And she can't even text Irma and tell her. Damn it.


	5. Exchanges

Donnie splashed his way through the sewers toward home, hefting a box of parts scavenged from the local dump. The icy sewer water made his feet ache. Autumn might be pretty up top but in the dank, dark tunnels where the sun never reached the cold penetrated skin and shell and chilled them to the core.

He wondered what time it was. The sun had been setting when he left the dump. Maybe around six? They wouldn't be patrolling until late tonight. Maybe April would come over. He smiled into the darkness, remembering the last time he had seen her. Remembering her hand on his arm. He walked a little faster, eager to be home.

By the time he reached the lair, his hands were numb as well as his feet. The huge open room was just barely warmer than the tunnels. His brothers were curled up in the pit under threadbare blankets, staring mindlessly at the television. He was halfway across the room before Leo noticed him.

"Hey, you're back." Explosions sounded and Leo's attention was drawn back to the television. Donnie was at the door to his lab before Leo spoke again. "You just missed April. She said to say hi."

Disappointment flared. He shouldered the door open. Just his luck that the first time she came over in days he was out. All the long months of dancing around each other, wondering if she felt anything for him, making a fool of himself over her, many times over, and then with one touch she had told him...what? He sighed. _I need a manual for this. Relationships for Dummies._ No, that wouldn't do. _Relationships for the Extremely Intelligent._ Better.

A bright splash of purple in the middle of his desk caught his eye. He set the box down on the floor hastily. April's purple pony sat on his notebook. He picked it up with a smile. Underneath April had written ' _Thought you might like some company while you work. Sorry I can't stay. Calculus study at home tonight.'_

Grinning, he rubbed his thumb over the smooth plastic and pulled his laptop closer. He set the pony down and opened up his messenger program. April was online. He smiled as he tapped out a message and hit send.

* * *

"Thanks for the study date," said Irma, flopping onto April's bed and pulling a hefty calculus text out of her bag.

"Oh, no problem. I need to do some serious cramming too if I'm going to pass this subject."

Irma pushed her glasses up her nose. "It's just that you've cancelled so many of them lately, I wasn't sure if, you know, you had any time left for me."

April blushed into the silence. Oh, she was a _bad_ friend. She sat down on the bed beside Irma. "Irma, I'm sorry," she said quietly. "Please don't be mad. There's just...so much going on in my life now, and I, I just..."

Irma folded her arms. "Just answer one thing for me. That Casey Jones. You're not a couple, are you?"

"No!"

"That's good. Because you're always running off with him and I swear if you are ditching me to kiss _that_ then I have no hope for you." Irma folded her arms and glared at April.

Damn Irma and her sharp mind. A lot of people called Irma nosy, but it wasn't that. Irma just had a deep and pressing need to understand _everything_. The two of them had been friends since kindergarten and Irma's pursuit of the truth in any situation was something April was familiar with. On the plus side, it did make her a lot less likely to jump to conclusions without evidence. Which meant if she thought April and Casey were together then April had been showing The Signs.

"No." April shook her head with all the sincerity she had. "No, really, we're just friends."

"So what do you do together all the time, huh?"

And now April wished she had spent some time coming up with a cover story. "Uh, just study."

"With _Casey Jones?_ Please." Irma rolled her eyes, but to April's relief she let it go, picking up her textbook. "So what chapter are we up to?"

"Seven, but I could really do with a review of chapter six. I barely scraped through the last set of exercises. I think I've got the derivative rules down but then I hit a problem and I feel that I have no idea what I'm doing." She was babbling, she knew it. _Calm down, April._ "Hey, how about some study fuel?"

Irma grinned. "Hot chocolate?"

"With extra marshmallows." It was their traditional fare. April bolted downstairs to make it, spread chocolate powder over the bench with shaking hands, slopped some liquid on the carpet going back up the stairs. Wow, she was a mess tonight.

Irma had a huge grin on her face when April came through the door. "Sooo. Who's _Donnie_? Hmm?"

"What?" April nearly dropped the cups. "Where did you-" She followed Irma's gaze to her laptop with a sinking feeling. The popup window in the middle of the screen was blatantly obvious. She had forgotten to sign out of messenger before Irma came over. _Great stealth skills there, April._ She slopped some more chocolate in her panic.

"Hey!" Irma grabbed a cup from her. April set the other cup down on her desk and read the message.

_**Donnie** _ _: Thanks for the pony. She's cute. Does she have a name?_

Irma leaned over her shoulder. "You gave some guy a pony?"

"It was a toy pony." What should she do? If she just signed out without saying anything, what would Donnie think?

Irma grinned at her. "Well go on. Don't leave him hanging."

April tapped at the keyboard and hit send.

_**April** _ _: Twilight Sparkle._

The reply came back in moments.

_**Donnie** _ _: Hahahaha are you kidding?_

_**April** _ _: I didn't name her! She's from a TV show._

Irma sipped her chocolate. "Donnie is kind of an old-fashioned name," she said, her voice neutral.

"Yeah. Um…" April glanced sideways and met Irma's gaze over her cup. Her mind had shut down. She couldn't think of a way out of this. She started to type _I have a friend over, I have to go_ but Irma saw her.

"Oh no you don't!" She reached over April and backspaced quickly. "Come on, O'Neil." Irma's eyes sparkled behind her glasses. "There's something going on here." Irma tapped her nose. "My spidey-sense is tingling."

"Nothing is going on. Really. He's just a friend." April couldn't meet Irma's gaze. With all the lying she'd done lately, she really should be better at it.

"So why haven't I met him?"

"Uhm…"

"Wait, you have met him, right? He's not some creepy internet stalker?" Irma's eyes narrowed behind her glasses.

"No! No, I've met him, he's nice. Um, kind of shy. Doesn't...meet a lot of people."

"I'm not people."

No, Irma wasn't. April could feel the walls of her lies bowing under the weight of Irma's scrutiny. "Look, we should be studying…"

Irma's eyes went wide. "Are you kidding me?" She pointed to the laptop screen. Donnie had gone to away mode, which could mean anything. But he hadn't replied to her last message. "I knew there was something up with you, and now I find out you have a secret internet friend who, for some strange reason, you have kept hidden." She folded her arms. "So what's the prob?"

"No problem at all."

"Uh huh. You're embarrassed about him."

"No!"

"Well, I know you don't care about colour, so that can't be the problem."

Not a problem for her, but yeah. Kind of a problem.

"I'm going to have to start using my imagination here, April. So." She tapped her chin, clearly enjoying making April squirm.

April shifted under her gaze. How was she going to get out of this?

"He's old," said Irma.

"He's sixteen."

"Hmm. Brainless jock?"

"Definitely not." April folded her arms, feeling more confident.

"He's a Brony."

"I don't even know what that is."

"Oh! I've got it! He's a furry!"

"What?"

But Irma was off. "You only meet in the park at night." She lowered her voice to a sexy whisper. "He wears a fox suit. You wear a bunny suit. You stroke his head while he yips at the moon and then you have hot fox love!"

" _What the hell,_ Irma!" April slapped her hands over her burning cheeks. But Irma was laughing at the ridiculous scenario and April knew she wasn't serious. "He does not!" She would not think about the words _hot turtle love-_ Oh crap, she just did.

She struggled to pull herself together, difficult with Irma laughing and making lewd comments about foxes. "He's perfectly…" She can't say _normal_ with a straight face. But the more she thought about it, the more his differences mattered to her. "He's different, but in a nice way. He's smart. He's considerate." She wanted to mention all the times he saved her life, he and his brothers, but that would open up a whole other can of Irma enquiries and needed to be kept in the dark.

The laptop beeped with an incoming message and April tensed, hoping Donnie hadn't said anything about the Kraang or the Foot or anything else that might trigger Irma's curiosity.

_**Donnie**_ : _Sorry, had to go fix the television for Mikey. They had an ad on for a dinosaur exhibit at the museum. It looks awesome!_

"Oh, he's a dinosaur buff?" said Irma.

"Yeah, he is." April sat down and tapped at the keyboard.

_**April** _ _: I know! Our biology class is going there on Friday._

_**Donnie** _ _: I'm jealous._

_**April** _ _: I'll take lots of photos for you._

_**Donnie** _ _: Thanks!_

She realised that Irma was leaning over her shoulder.

_**April** _ _: I really should go study now. Talk to you later!_

_**Donnie** _ _: Goodnight, Princess._

"Princess?" squeaked Irma.

April buried her face in her hands, feeling the blush blaze up her neck until it felt like her entire head was on fire. Oh no. Why, why, why of all times had he decided to call her princess _now_? She bonked her head on the desk. She had avoided talking to him about it before out of sheer embarrassment. But this really had to stop.

Irma was spluttering behind her. "Okay, I know if _anyone_ called you princess they would be walking away with their manhood in a paper bag. So what's the deal, O'Neil? And why are you _blushing_ , hmm?"

April sighed and covered her cheeks with her hands, not that it would help because her blush was everywhere. "I kind of like him," she whispered

Irma squealed and grabbed her shoulders. "I knew it! You have a secret boyfriend!" Irma dragged her to the bed, shoving books onto the floor to make room for the two of them.

"Tell. Me. EVERYTHING."

_Oh boy._

* * *

He was proud of himself for having the courage to call her princess directly. Of course he had let the term slip before, but she'd never said anything about it. He felt that now was a good time to say it out loud, to make it clear how he felt about her.

He thought about April as he sorted through his scavenged parts and the night drifted past him. He wasn't expecting more messages, so was surprised when his computer beeped.

_**April** _ _: You._

_**Donnie:**_ _?_

_**April** _ _: YOU._

_**Donnie:** _ _Um?_

_**April** _ _: When I see you next I am going to kill you so hard._

Oops. Too soon, then, for princess. His confidence crashed down around him. What should he do?

_**Donnie:**_ _Um, sorry?_

_**April:** _ _YOU WILL BE._

April went offline. Donnie closed the window with a sigh. One step forward, one mile back. He opened Firefox. Maybe there was a book out there for the romantically clueless.


	6. Princess

April wanders along the abandoned subway track towards the lair. She hasn't take the quicker route through the tunnels today because she doesn't want to arrive at the lair smelling of the sewer. Admittedly everything down here smells like sewer, but some days she'd rather that didn't include her.

She's got the whole Saturday free to spend with the guys, up to date with her schoolwork for once thanks to some marathon sessions with Irma. She sighs, glad that thoughts of her best friend no longer come with a back-breaking load of guilt. She's told Irma as much as she can about Donnie without including mutants, turtles, aliens or ninjas. One day though she's going to ask the guys if she can introduce them. Because Irma will love them to bits, maybe as much as April does herself. But it's not her decision to make, it's theirs, and today is not the day to ask.

She realises she's dawdling and pulls up, frowning into the darkness, shifting her bag to the other shoulder. It's been two days since she's spoken to Donnie. Not because she is mad at him, but because she has to go up to him today and talk about the whole princess thing. It's got to stop. She's nobody's princess.

And it should be easy, right? _Donnie, stop calling me your princess. Just stop._

And he will, because he's Donnie and he would do anything for her. Help her with homework. Rescue her father. Fight his way into an alien lab to find out why they want her. Develop a retromutagen to cure her father's mutation. Stand between her and Karai and about fifty Footbots on his own.

Jump off a freaking helicopter to save her life.

She shivers in the darkness. Those nightmares still come. Of seeing the ground come at her and thinking _I'm going to die_. But she hadn't, because this strange, glorious person she'd only just met leaped off a helicopter and caught her. She still doesn't know how he did it. Doesn't remember anything except the fear of imminent death and then the impact against his body and curling into him as the momentum from their fall tumbled them across the rooftop. She remembers the aftermath more, the bloody scrapes along his arms and legs and shell where he'd taken the impact for her so she was left with barely a scratch.

And the thought that rises like a tsunami in her mind is, _how do you live up to a love that fierce_?

She wasn't anything special, unless you counted the mutant blood and associated mental powers. But that wasn't _her_. She didn't feel special. She was just April. And sometimes when she looked at him, looked at all of them, she felt so desperately inadequate to be a part of their world. She was afraid, so afraid, that one day Donnie would look at her, _really_ look, and see just an ordinary girl.

And she wouldn't be his princess any more.

What would that be like? To have been the centre of someone's universe, and then to be...no longer special? That's what she fears. Here, in the dark, she can finally admit to herself why she's denied him for so long. It's not him at all. It's her. She's afraid to reach out for that burning flame in the darkness, not for fear of being burned, but for fear of the flame going out.

But she still doesn't want to be his princess. She wants him to love her for who she is. Herself. Just ordinary April. She grips the strap of her backpack, takes a deep breath. Calls to mind every one of Splinter's homilies on courage and honour and doing what needs to be done. Breathes out in a rush and starts walking before she can change her mind.

* * *

Donnie staggers out of his bedroom with his arms full of books, headed for his lab. He walks past Leo who's standing outside his bedroom with a pained expression on his face. Shouts and thumps come from the other rooms. He and Leo exchange a glance, with the long-suffering expressions of The Good Children. Leo shakes his head and retreats to his room, pulling the door closed behind him.

Donnie is almost at the door to his lab when he hears the bedroom doors slam open. He tenses, waiting for the next act in the family drama that's been going on since about seven am.

There's a thump and a shriek of rage from Mikey. "You're a c***, Raph!" yells Mikey.

"You don't even know what that word means!" Raphael shouts back.

"I don't need to know what it means to know _you are one!_ "

Donnie's not even sure Raph knows what that word means, but who cares about a little detail like that during Turtle War III? He staggers across the lab to his desk and dumps the books in a pile on the floor.

It's only then that he registers that April is standing in the middle of the lab with her mouth open. She must have come in through the garage. And she- oh no. "Oh my gosh please tell me you did not hear that." He cringes internally. Of all the times to walk in, when his brothers are at their most coarse and...and vulgar.

She slaps a hand over her mouth and to his relief bursts out laughing.

"I'm so sorry." He winces as another volley of cursing comes from the bedrooms.

But April is snorting into her hand and it's the most adorable thing he's ever seen. She pulls herself together. "Wow. I've never heard you guys swear like that before."

"Of course not." He steps to the side, forgetting the pile of books, and trips over the edge of one, grabbing at the desk to keep from falling on his shell. He hasn't seen or spoken to April since the day she left him the pony, which started off so well and ended with her threatening to kill him and he tenses, because April must be mad at him and why of all days did his brothers have to decide to instigate a family brawl today? "Splinter would kick our shells if he heard us swearing in front of a lady."

April frowns, and he wonders what he's said this time to upset her. He decides to get things over with. Just apologise and maybe he can defuse her anger somehow. "Um, April, about the other night-"

"We'll talk about it later," she says, too quickly. She's gone pink, and pulls off her backpack, fumbling inside. "I brought something for you."

"Oh?" He's wrong-footed now, cut off in the middle of his apology, not sure what to do. "Um, thank you?" There's a crash and more screams of rage from outside. Donnie winces.

April looks a little apprehensive. "Um, maybe we can go for a walk or something."

"I can't. Splinter told us to clean our rooms or else."

"Or else what?"

"I don't know, and I don't really want to find out."

"Oh. Well, maybe I can help. To get it done quicker." She smiles at him.

He mentally runs through the state of his room at the moment. It seems safe. "Okay." He turns and bumps into the desk. Smooth. He's all over the place. He expected her to be mad, but she doesn't seem mad, or maybe she is mad and he just can't tell.

They slip down the empty hall and into his room and he pulls the door closed behind them, leaning against it for a moment. There's a steady thumping noise coming from Mikey's room. His wall adjoins Raph's room, and Donnie knows that Mikey is currently lying on his bed and kicking the wall, because he knows it will drive Raph crazy.

"What's that noise?" asks April. She's standing in the middle of his room, surrounded by, well, mess.

"Mikey's trying to annoy Raph by kicking the wall until Raph loses his temper."

"That doesn't seem like a really smart idea."

He grimaces. "I did say Mikey."

"You did." April's looking around the room and Donnie follows the direction of her gaze, panicking a little at what she might find. But mostly it's just books and papers. He notices a half-empty glass of milk on the floor beside his bed and picks it up. It goes _glup_.

"Oh, that doesn't sound good. Um, I'll be back." He holds it out at arm's length as he heads for the kitchen. He can't even remember the last time he had a glass of milk before bed.

When he returns April is kneeling on the floor, stacking books into a pile. "Don't worry, I'm sorting them by category and author, just how you like."

"How do you know that?"

She looks surprised. "How do I know? Donnie, how many months have I been working in the lab with you? How many times have you asked me to grab a book? I know your system." She smiles at him, picks up a book and slots it into the correct place in the pile. "Seriously, I wouldn't dare stack them any other way."

He knows all the minute details of her, the way she moves, the way she laughs, her taste in movies and music and books but it never occurred to him that she might notice things about him, too. He wants to ask her, what else do you know about me? But that sounds weird and is probably the wrong thing to say.

She finishes stacking and looks up at him, still standing there just staring. "What I don't understand is why you aren't obsessively tidy."

He shrugs. "Seems a waste of time. Entropy dictates that disorder is the natural, low energy state of being, so why put effort into tidying up? I'll leave that to Leo."

A door bangs outside. "I'm gonna pound you, you little t***," roars Raphael. There's a shriek from Mikey and then the thunder of running feet.

"And the conflict resumes," he says with a sigh.

"It sounds serious. I mean, I know you guys fight sometimes, but-" April's words are drowned out by a reverberating crash from outside. "So what happened?"

Donnie sinks down with his back against the bed. "Mikey borrowed one of Raph's drums yesterday, who knows why. Raph went into his room this morning to get it back and knocked over a pile of pizza boxes and, well, they were full of roaches. So Raph gets a faceful of roach at seven in the morning and freaks out, and then he laid into Mikey and that woke up Splinter. Splinter looked at Mikey's room and told him to clean it and then said we could all do with a room clean and then Leo said that sounded like a good idea and then Raph called Leo a suck and _they_ started fighting." He pushes at a pile of papers with his foot, moving them into a slightly tidier pile. "Master Splinter took his tea and went for a walk."

"Smart move."

Another door slams and Leo's voice comes down the hall. "Will you two just cut it out and clean your rooms? Splinter's going to be back soon and he said-"

Raph shouts back. "Shut up, Leo! We don't need your leadership skills! Go j*** off to your Captain Ryan p***!"

Donnie can feel the colour rising on his cheeks. "Sorry about that."

April rolls her eyes. "Donnie, I hear stuff like that at school all the time. I'm not some precious flower, you know."

"Yes, but-"

She glares at him and he changes tack hastily. "I wish Leo would stop trying to help. He just makes it worse." He winces as something breaks.

"Makes me glad I'm an only child."

"Lucky you. Want to swap? Three brothers, going cheap."

April laughs and shuffles over to sit next to him. He's aware of the heat of her against his side, even though they're not touching. "You're lucky to have brothers. You wouldn't really give them away."

He grunts noncommittally. Days like this he doesn't feel lucky. He feels homicidal. No, that's not right. He feels irritated, unbalanced. Wishes he could leave, just to clear his head. Wishes they would just stop shouting.

He's jerked out of his thoughts when April leans against his side. "Hey."

He looks down at her. Her blue eyes are fixed on his and his heart does a flip in his chest. "Sorry. I'm not good company today."

"It's okay. I know you hate it when they fight." It's the sympathy in her gaze that does it. He's hardly even aware that he's moving, and then his arm goes around her. He waits for her to tense, to pull away, but she doesn't. She settles against his side, and the heat from her body goes right through him.

He closes his eyes, wonders if she can hear the way his heart is pounding. He can feel the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. He tilts his head, rests his cheek gently on the top of her head. Her hair tickles his skin, so soft, and his nose is full of the scent of her, flowers and vanilla, and something spicy that he can't identify. If he turned his head he could kiss her hair, but he doesn't want to move in case it breaks this perfect moment.

"Donnie?" Her voice is low, and there's a tone to it that makes him tense. He opens his eyes, sees her hands in her lap, twisting nervously. "There's something I need to say."

As if on cue, there's a shriek from Mikey out in the main room. " _Don't you dare,_ Raphael! Put him down!"

"Not until you apologise you little s*** for brains!"

"Fine! I'm sorry! _I'm sorry you're such a c*******!_ "

He sighs. He knew it was too good to last. "Hang on," he says, reluctantly untangling himself from around her. Outside in the main room, Raph and Mikey are face to face, shouting at each other, Raph holding up one of Mikey's action figures and Leo glaring at them both.

"Hey guys, can you keep a lid on it, please? April's here."

It's worth it for the shocked look on their faces, and the sudden and absolute silence. They might be mad at each other, but they would never act like that in front of April, and it gives him a moment of mean-spirited satisfaction to know they're going to be embarrassed about it. He goes back to his room and pulls the door closed.

"Sorry," he says, for what feels like the hundredth time today, not that it is, and he hates hyperbole, but he doesn't want to count. April is sitting on his bed. She's got a determined expression on her face, one he's familiar with. "What did you want to say?"

His door bursts open and Leo comes in. "That was great, Donnie. I'll have to remember that one for-" Leo spots April on the bed. "Oh s*** you _are_ here." Leo slaps his hand over his mouth. "I mean, did you hear-"

" _It's fine,"_ April says through clenched teeth. "When will you get it through your heads that I am not going to _faint_ or have _hysterics_ because you know how to say _f***_!"

"Uh…" Leo's eyes dart from April to Donnie and back again. Donnie's actually glad to see someone else completely at a loss when faced with April's anger. "But Master Splinter says-"

April leaps to her feet.

"Okay, leaving now," says Leo, and exits hastily.

"Urrgh!" April throws her hands in the air and flops down on the bed. She stews for a moment, and Donnie's about to break the uncomfortable silence when she looks up and meets his gaze. "Donnie, don't call me princess."

He realises his hands are wrapped around the leather of his chest strap, an awful habit that he can't seem to break. He makes the effort to let them rest at his sides. "Yeah, um, I kind of got that already." He waits for the rage to hit.

"No, you don't understand."

She's right about that. He waits while she chews her lip and fiddles with her ponytail. He finds himself mesmerised by her fingers tugging at her hair, the way the red strands flow around her fingers. "Don't do that."

"What?"

He walks up to her and pulls her hand away from her hair. "Don't tug at it."

She flips the ponytail behind her. "Donnie, I hate the word princess. _Hate_ it. Princesses are…" She waves her arms, as if words have momentarily escaped her.

"Beautiful? Rare? Special?" he says. All the words he uses for her in his head.

She glares at him. "Decorative. Pampered. _Useless_."

_Oh_. He opens his mouth, runs through several possible responses, fails to find one suitable and closes it again. "That's not what I mean."

"That's what I hear." She deflates, the angry set of her shoulders slumping away into something else he can't identify, but it's not a happy emotion. He needs to find the right words here. Wishes he could write them down, take his time over them, censor the wrong things before they make it out of his mouth. He's tongue-tied, not an uncommon event around her, but this time because it so desperately matters what he says right now. _I think you're beautiful. You're special to me. You're amazing. You're perfect, and pretty, and wonderful._

"I don't think you're useless." _Damn it._ "I mean-"

But her eyes light up. "You mean that?"

Wait, did he actually manage to say the right thing? "Yes," he says without hesitation, because she's smiling. He frantically rearranges his thoughts. "You're smart, and you help so much, I could never do half the stuff I do without you getting information for me and helping me figure out things and talking through ideas and just, you know…" He trails off.

"I wish I could hold my own better in a fight." Her expression is defensive.

He toys with placating her, but decides to go for honesty. "You will, one day. Look how far you've come already."

It's the right thing to say. She nods, her expression accepting and a little nervous.

And now he gets it, and wonders why it took him so long, how he could have been so _blind_ to April's determination to be not just someone to be protected, but someone who could give something back. She's always been like this, since the night that they met her, the drive to help, to learn, to be involved. He always thought it was about her father, about herself. He's realising now how much of it is about _them_ and that makes him want to hug her, to tell her how much she means to him, to all of them.

"I also think you're pretty," he says softly.

She gives him a fierce look, but it's a little ruined by the blush coating her cheeks. "Just as long as that's not all you think about me."

He wants to tell her that there is no way he could articulate all that he thinks about her but that's probably another one of those weird statements and he's getting better at censoring them.

She breathes out in a rush, shuffles her shoulders as if a weight has lifted off them. "We should finish your room."

"Nah." He looks around. It's still a mess, though not as bad as it was. "Do you-" Damn it, his hands are wrapped around his harness again. He forces them back down to his sides. "I mean, we could go for that walk."

"Won't you get in trouble?"

He shrugs, grinning, not caring at this moment if he does. "Maybe."

"It's the middle of the day."

"That's okay, I've got a place to go."

She smiles at him, and that's worth the trouble he's going to be in when he gets home. "Okay."

* * *

Down here by the river it's nice, even with the rubbish floating past. They're sitting at the opening of a huge stormwater pipe, dry as a bone because it hasn't rained in weeks. The river is lapping at the mud just beyond the opening of the pipe and it's kind of peaceful, even with the coastguard boats and the ferries churning up and down outside.

April rests her back against the curve of the pipe and looks across at Donnie, leaning against the curve opposite her. He's looking out over the river but his gaze is unfocused, like he's staring at something inside his head. Which, knowing Donnie as she does, he probably is. He looks relaxed for the first time since she's seen him today.

She takes a quiet moment to watch him, the contented pose which she so rarely sees, long arms relaxed and draped over his knees. No one, she thinks, can do stillness like a ninja, and especially like her ninjas. It's something she hasn't yet mastered, though her skills are getting better. She- ninja skills, damn it. "Oh my gosh, I forgot!"

Donnie jerks back to himself. "What?"

She grabs for her backpack and scuffles through it. "The reason I came over today!" Well, aside from the whole princess conversation. Which went so much better than she hoped it would. "Remember my class went to the museum on Friday?" She pulls out a bunch of brightly coloured brochures.

"I remember." Donnie shifts over until he's sitting beside her.

She feels the presence of him, the brush of cool skin against hers. "They wouldn't let us take photos. But I got these for you." She holds up the pile of brochures.

He takes them from her hands, his face lighting up. "Wow, look at that! They have Early Cretaceous and Jurassic _and_ Precambrian Amphibia?" He pulls out another brochure and gasps. "Is that _Argentinosaurus_?"

"It is." She's glad she paid attention. "Only recently discovered in Argentina, the largest-"

"-largest land herbivore in existence!"

He's in full nerd mode and it's engaging. _There's nothing like an enthusiast_. She leans against his arm. "I thought you weren't a dinosaur buff anymore?"

He flashes her a sideways glance. "Well, you know, I have my news sites…."

"Uh-huh. Anyway…" She digs in her backpack for the _other_ papers and holds them out.

He blinks, frowns at them. "Blueprints? For the museum?"

"Yes. I did some research. I thought, if we knew the layout...we could sneak in."

"Sneak in to the museum?" His eye ridges go up.

She talks fast, wanting him to get behind the idea. "You said you'd never been. You'd love it, Donnie. And you know, I'm a kunoichi now, well, in training anyway. We could do it." She slips her hand into his. His fingers tighten around hers. "I really want to show it to you. And the dinosaur exhibit's only running for a few more days. They only have a couple of security guards at night, I mean, it's a museum, we could be in and out and they'd never know."

He smiles down at her. "You're getting really sneaky, you know that?"

She grins. "I hang with the best. Is that a yes?"

His grin threatens to break his face. "It's definitely a yes."

"Operation Dino-break!" She punches the air.

"Okay, you need to stop spending time with Mikey, you're picking up some really bad habits."


	7. Courage

Donnie crouched in the shadows, on the roof of the building across from the museum, against the wall where he was out of the cutting wind. From here he could see the huge banner on the front of the building, advertising the largest dinosaur exhibit on the East Coast. A _Parasaurolophus_ loomed behind the words, peering out from a screen of cretaceous greenery.

He glanced around out of habit, but wasn't expecting April just yet. Too excited to hang around in the lair, he had left early and taken a long, winding path across the rooftops to his destination, and now he waited, alert for roaming footbots, kraang droids and stray mutants, but mostly alert for the flash of red hair under the streetlights.

Nerves and excitement combined to make a heady mix in his belly and kept the autumn chill at bay. Also there was the fact that he was technically grounded, after running out without finishing his room on Saturday. But he'd laid the foundations for a long night of research, by rambling on all through dinner about a new program he was designing, that would help them to listen in on the Kraang's communications. Everyone had tuned out, even Splinter, so when he headed to his lab and shut the door, he knew he wouldn't be disturbed. Well, there was a very high probability that he wouldn't. Unless an emergency happened. If it did, being caught outside the lair would be the least of his problems. It was worth the risk.

What was uppermost in his mind was the lack of his brothers. No one to interrupt, or roll their eyes and complain about being bored, or to start a fight, or to snicker and make kissy noises behind his back. Just him and April.

He was determined to kiss her tonight.

The feeling had been growing over the last few days, more so because he had been so restricted, stuck in the lair with a lot of time to be in his own thoughts. And most of those thoughts had been taken up with April. Sometimes he would sit with his back against his bed, and close his eyes, and remember how it felt to have his arm around her, to rest his cheek on her hair.

It wasn't that he hadn't been kissed. April kissed him on the cheek all the time, and her hugs had become more frequent, more spontaneous. His body no longer went into overdrive when she touched him, and that was much better. He was slowly training himself to become accustomed to her touch. Or maybe she was training him. But he had never kissed her. Had never found the courage to lean forward and press his lips against hers. The thought of doing that sent tingles down his arms to his fingers, and a corresponding surge of terror through his belly.

He wondered if human boys felt this way, when they wanted to kiss a girl. The only people he could ask about _that_ were Master Splinter and Casey Jones. The thought of asking Master Splinter how it felt to kiss a girl was a big fat flashing _nope_ in his head. And there was no way he could ask Casey.

No, he was intelligent. He'd done some research. He would figure the rest out on his own, like he did everything else.

His ninja senses kicked in, alerting him to the soft pad of footsteps in the alley below. He leaned forward and looked over the edge. April moved stealthily into the alleyway. For a moment he said nothing, simply admired the way she moved, less relaxed than when they had first known her, more focussed, sharper, more contained within herself. More like a ninja.

He swung down the fire-escape and landed in the alleyway behind her. She whirled to face him, her _tessen_ out.

He leaned casually on the wall. "What's a tough _kunoichi_ like you doing in a place like this?" That sounded pretty good. He grinned and folded his arms

April smiled and fanned herself with her _tessen_. "Breaking into a museum. How about you?"

His heart skipped a beat. "Same. What a coincidence." Wow. He'd done it. He'd actually said something cool. He stepped away from the wall, his mind scrambling for something else to say, and managed to trip over his own feet. He caught himself before he fell, but it was perfectly obvious he'd just fallen over himself.

April put her hand over her mouth, but couldn't completely stifle her laughter.

_Really, body? Really?_ He sighed. So much for being cool.

* * *

April swung by her hands above the darkened room, hanging onto the edge of the skylight. She could just about make out where Donnie was below her, by the thin light from an exit sign shining on the edge of his shell.

"Jump, April," he whispered, the words sounding awfully loud in the silence.

She bit her lip. It wasn't that far down. She'd watched Donnie drop into the dark and land soundlessly. She knew he wouldn't let her hurt herself. But it was still hard to let go, to trust her training to make her land safely. _Let go_ , she told herself, but still her fingers gripped the edge. _Come on, O'Neil. This was your idea. What are you going to do, pack up and go home? Leave Donnie alone in the museum by himself?_

Of course she couldn't. The seconds were drawing out, and it was getting to be embarrassingly long. She drew in a deep breath, filled her lungs as far as they could go, then straightened her fingers. The floor rushed up. She landed on the balls of her feet as she should, overbalanced, stumbled and went down on her knees with a bump.

"Nice work," whispered Donnie, holding out a hand to help her up.

She ignored both the hand and the compliment, because it had been a shitty landing. She stood up and brushed off her knees, glad he couldn't see her face in the dark.

In fact, it was a lot darker than she had anticipated, though much warmer out of the wind. The exhibits were unlit, and only the lights above the fire exits gave the room any shape at all. The excitement of breaking into the museum faded a little, and her heart sank.

"Donnie, I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't think it would be this dark."

"Pfft, not a problem," he said.

"Really? Can you see in the dark?" She hadn't thought they could. Was this another turtle thing?

"No." A light flashed on, illuminating the ceiling in a bright circle. "I brought a flashlight."

She laughed out loud, then slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. "Donnie, I swear, you are the best Boy Scout in America."

"Always prepared," he said in a low voice, grinning. He swung the beam of light over the walls, illuminating cases of cultural artifacts. "Where are the dinosaurs?"

"This way." She led him past the natural history section and the colonial America exhibit, Donnie going slower and slower as each new exhibit came into the circle of his flashlight beam. He stopped dead under the replica of the Wright Flyer hanging from the ceiling.

"Look at that!" he said, far too loud. He stared up at the replica glider with an expression of childlike joy.

"Shh, Donnie. It's only a glider. Come on!" she whispered. She tugged at his arm impatiently, eager to show him the dinosaurs, to see his astonishment and awe. But no matter how much she tugged on his arm, he kept slowing, to peer into a case full of giant Amazonian bugs, exclaiming far too loudly about their carapaces, or something.

"Shh, Donnie!" Ugh, she sounded just like Leo. Donnie lowered his voice for a moment but then he darted to the next case, his cries of delight even louder. She shushed him again and tugged harder on his arm. He was practically vibrating with excitement, like a little kid. _Geez, how can he get so excited about this dusty old stuff?_

But of course, Donnie had never been dragged through museums as a child, year after year, never been forced to go to art galleries or shows or concerts. A strange sort of grief welled up inside as she thought about all the things that he and his brothers had missed out on, all the things that she took for granted. How narrow their lives must have been before they came up to the surface. She wondered how much it hurt, being on the outside of life, always watching, never joining in.

She slid her hand down his arm in the darkness until she could wrap her fingers around his, difficult as they were so large compared to her own.

That stopped him in his tracks. He stared at her hand gripping his, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open. The moment stretched out. He would let go, would blush and stammer and turn away.

But he didn't. His fingers closed around her hand and her heart beat just a little faster.

A shy Donnie smile spread over his face. "Thanks, April. This is...this is awesome."

Did he mean the museum, or did he mean that they were holding hands? She just never knew with Donnie, and she wanted, she wanted this moment to stretch out. "Wait until you see the dinosaurs," she whispered.

She kept hold of his hand as she led him past the other exhibits. He no longer ran off, distracted. Now whenever she looked at him, his gaze was fixed firmly on her face. She was torn between guilt at distracting him from the wonders around him and a fierce, burning, possessive joy.

She realised that she had stopped walking, that they were standing together in the middle of a darkened room, holding hands. She had no idea what exhibits surrounded them. The torch hung from Donnie's hand, the beam pointing to the floor. The light reflected in his eyes, a bright dot that was all she could focus on.

He dropped his gaze to the floor, and leaned down towards her, hesitant. He was going to kiss her. Her mouth was dry. He was going to kiss her. Panic rose up and swamped her. She wanted to, but she didn't. What would it be like? What should she do? She wasn't ready. This was too complicated.

His gaze flicked up to meet hers. There was a roaring in her ears. He was so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. She closed her eyes.

Something tickled her other sense and she turned her head. Her nose collided with his cheek, his teeth ran into her lip.

"Ow!" She jerked backwards, hand going to her mouth.

Donnie's eyes went wide. "April, I'm so sorry-"

A warning clanged through her mind. "Someone's coming!" Heavy footsteps sounded from the next room, and a beam of light lit up the walls. April's stomach dropped. The security guard was doing his rounds.

Donnie's expression went from dejected to intense in the time it took for his third eyelid to flick into position. He switched off the flashlight and they ran into the dark, back the way they had come. The beam of the guard's flashlight cut through the darkness behind them.

April's leg hit something and she tumbled to the floor. A deafening crash filled the room. She must have knocked over an exhibit.

"Who's there?" shouted the security guard. Footsteps pounded behind them. "Stop where you are!"

Donnie grabbed her hand, yanked her off the floor and dragged her to the side, into the gap between two display cases. He pulled her into a crouch and wrapped an arm around her, pressed her to his chest, curled around her with his shell facing out as the guard's footsteps approached. She went still, like the shadow, as Master Splinter had taught her.

She peered out from under Donnie's arm. The beam of the guard's flashlight played over the walls, the exhibits. She could hear the rasp of his breath. She could count the buttons on his shirt. _Don't turn, don't look._ Her breath caught in her throat as the beam of light came closer. If he looked down he would see them. Surely he could hear her heart pounding.

What would she say to her father if they got caught? _I'm sorry dad, I just really like dinosaurs and I had to go back...at night...alone…_ Her dad would know she had been out with the turtles and it would feed his paranoia even more. He would make more insistent comments about not wanting her to see them so much.

Another horrifying thought pressed in on the last one. _What if the guard saw Donnie? What a stupid idea, putting Donnie into danger like this._ If she went out there now, if she gave herself up, then he wouldn't see Donnie. She shifted, trying to edge out from Donnie's arm but his grip tightened and she couldn't break free without a struggle. _Let go,_ she thought at him, pushing at his arm. But he didn't move an inch.

She nearly swallowed her tongue when the light passed over their heads. And then the guard was walking away, the sound of his footsteps fading. He was gone.

She sagged against Donnie. Now she could hear his heartbeat over her own. It wasn't hammering. It was steady and calm. Her lips twisted in the darkness. Of course. He was used to hiding from their enemies. It was only April, the trainee, who got worked up.

Donnie pulled back and looked down at her. "What were you doing?" he whispered.

She couldn't see him at all now. "I thought he was going to find us. I was going to go out and distract him from you," she whispered.

"That's not a very _kunoichi_ thing to do."

"Thanks. You don't have to remind me."

"That's not what I meant."

An awkward silence fell between them. April knew that she should take him to the dinosaur exhibit now, while they had the chance, but they had come so close to getting caught. Now her idea seemed stupid, thoughtless.

"Maybe we should go and see the dinosaurs?" said Donnie tentatively.

"I guess we should." She shuffled her shoulders, tried to shake off the fear. They'd come this far. She couldn't let him leave without seeing the exhibit.

They were still crammed together between the cases. She could smell him, his odd, spicy scent, the rich aroma of leather oil, the faint hint of sweat. It made her insides dance with butterflies. Her face heated in the darkness as she thought about their first kiss, or the near miss that had been their first kiss. She sighed. Always awkward. They never seemed to be able to fit together properly. She shifted onto her knees to get up, and looked at Donnie, just a shapeless blob in the darkness.

His hands cupped her face. She opened her mouth to ask him what he was doing. Then his lips pressed against hers. Her body went still, every nerve focussed on the pressure of Donnie's lips. They were softer than she expected, cooler, but so alive, moving against hers, the sensation sending tingles through her chest, through her belly, right to the tips of her fingers where they rested on his plastron.

She didn't know why she had been worried. They fit together perfectly.

* * *

In all his dreams, he never thought a kiss would feel like this. Had never considered that April would have a _taste_ , something else uniquely her. Had thought her lips would be soft, but instead they were firm and warm against his. He drew away from them reluctantly.

The soft sigh of her released breath seemed to fill his world. He wanted to say something, to express how amazing she was, how wonderful the kiss had been, but the words died in his throat. His hands still cupped her face, but she hadn't pulled away. He leaned down, wanting to kiss her again, while this unfamiliar courage still coursed through his veins.

The fluorescent lights above them flickered on, flooding the room with light. This was not good.

"We'd better go," she said, scrambling to her feet, her eyes wide.

"Good idea."

At least running was easier now. They bolted in the other direction, looking for a handy window. Through an archway, Donnie saw lush cretaceous greenery. A long neck topped by a relatively tiny head poked out between the fronds. He felt a pang of regret, and waved at _Argentinosaurus_. Maybe next time.

April had climbed onto a wooden case so that she could reach a window, but was struggling with the catch. He leaped up beside her, pulling out his wrist blade. With a quick jiggle he loosened the catch and flung the window open, following April through and out onto a ledge. He pulled the window closed behind them, then sidled along the ledge after April, toward the fire escape.

"Up or down?" said April.

"Up," he said. He was always more comfortable on rooftops.

On the rooftop they could run, and crossed a couple of alleyways before Donnie felt it was safe to slow down.

April sighed and retied her ponytail with two practised jerks before turning to face him. "Donnie, I'm sorry. We never got to see the dinosaurs." She bit her lip, chagrin all over her face. "All that effort and you didn't get to see _Argentinosaurus_."

He smiled, not wanting her to be upset. "It's okay. Next museum break in."

She grimaced. "I don't know if I'm brave enough for another try."

"Well, maybe we can do something different. I hear the art gallery has an amazing collection of renaissance art."

"Oh no. No. Uh-uh." April waved her hands in front of her in a definite gesture of _no_. "I think we should stick to analysing sewage."

"What about fighting off armies of footbots?"

"I prefer decoding Kraang communications."

"Or we could prevent interdimensional invasions."

April laughed, the worry finally leaving her face. "You know, when you put it like that, the Art Gallery sounds like a perfect second date." She put her hand over her mouth. "Oh, I didn't mean...not that this was…" The worry was back on her face.

"It's okay." Although he wasn't sure that it was okay. They had kissed, hadn't they? But now they were back to uncertain territory. The last wisps of their kiss faded away and he sighed. "It doesn't matter."

April looked close to tears. "Donnie, I'm sorry. It's just that everything is so complicated. I don't even know what I'm doing half the time, and school is so intense, and Dad is just getting worse, and…"

He reached out with an audacity that surprised him, and took her hand. "It doesn't have to be anything. It can just be two ninjas breaking into a public building to view the renaissance art." That made her smile, so he decided to push his luck. "And one ninja just, you know, really likes the other one."

He held on to the warmth of her hand as the moment stretched out, his feelings out in the open, finally. Out where there could be no misunderstandings. Out there where she could choose to accept them, or...or reject them.

April bit her lip and looked at the ground.

Donnie started to build walls around his heart, careful walls, protective walls. She was going to tell him that she only wanted to be friends. And that was fine. It was fine. It would hurt, but it was fine. He laid the walls down as thick as he knew how.

April looked up at him, finally. "I don't know if I can promise you anything, Donnie. I don't even know who I am right now."

"Okay." That wasn't the answer he expected, and he wasn't sure what to say. "I understand." Which was a big fat lie. He didn't understand at all. What did she think he wanted from her?

"But I do like you," she whispered. She reached up to cup his cheek in her hand. Her fingers trembled against his skin.

He bent down and kissed her. It felt so natural, so perfect. She leaned in, rested her hand on his forearm. In the roaring heat from their kiss, the walls around his heart crumbled away.

Maybe her meaning would become clear in time. Maybe he would know what she meant if they could just keep touching like this. Maybe this was how all relationships began, with confusion and kisses.

She pulled away, but smiled up at him, a shy smile with just the hint of a blush on her cheeks. They wandered home, not talking much, but holding hands whenever they could, figuring out the way that their hands fit together.

On the fire escape outside her window, she put a finger to her lips and slipped through the window into the darkened apartment. "I'd better go. I don't want to wake dad." She squeezed his hand. "Good night, Donnie."

There were so many words flying about inside him, he didn't know where to start. Thank you for the museum trip. Thank you for the kiss. We'll work things out somehow. I love you. But all that came out of his mouth was, "Good night, April."

He sat on the rooftop across from her apartment, watching the light in her window, watching her silhouette as she moved about the room. She knew he liked her. She had said she liked him. They had kissed three times, counting their first, awkward attempt. They had held hands easily, comfortably. He sighed, his breath steaming in the cool air.

He had thought it would be easier, once she knew, once they had navigated the complexities of _do you even like me?_ into the simplicity of _I like you, too_. But he felt just as unbalanced as he had before. More, now. He didn't know what she expected of him, didn't know how their kisses would change things. Should he tell his brothers? Should he keep it quiet? Would she be upset if he kissed her in front of them? Should he ask her out on dates?

_Maybe he should make a flowchart-_ No. He pushed that thought away, clenched his fists against the familiar surge of nervousness. No. He wouldn't plan. April had said she couldn't promise anything. And then she had kissed him. He had failed in all his attempts at a relationship so far, until he had stepped back, and just let things happen. So that's what he would do. He would just let things happen.

The light in her window went out. Donnie ran home across the rooftops, under the cold autumn sky, back to the sewers, leaving loneliness behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of Walls. Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story. There may be a sequel in the future, because Donnie and April have plenty still to work out.


End file.
